Joel Goldman - Stone Cold

Bradshaw spoke softly, careful that the jury didn’t hear him. “Ms. Stone is right about what he’s going to say and wrong that it’s inadmissible. It goes to his credibility. The jury could conclude that anyone willing to take that kind of risk is telling the truth.”

Alex gripped the top edge of the judge’s bench, forcing her voice to a whisper. “That’s crazy! The prosecution is alleging that my client will kill Mr. Henderson for testifying against him, and the proof of that baseless allegation is that Henderson’s wife is afraid that will happen because her husband is a snitch. That’s so inadmissible I don’t know where to start.”

Judge West nodded. “I have to agree with you, Ms. Stone. Of course, if Mr. Henderson is the one who is afraid, that would go to his credibility.”

Bradshaw’s eyes lit up. Wild West had come through again.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Bradshaw said.

The judge announced his ruling to the jury. “Objection sustained. Ask your next, Mr. Bradshaw.”

Bradshaw winked at Alex as they resumed their places. She ignored him, letting him think he’d turned her victory lap into a beat-down.

“Mr. Henderson, are you happy to be here today?”

Henderson shrugged. “Rather be cuttin’ hair.”

“Why is that? Are you concerned about the money you’ll lose?”

“No, sir. Well. . yes, sir. Money’s always tight.”

“Are you worried about anything else related to your testimony?”

Henderson chewed his lower lip, drawing it inside his mouth, working it like a chaw of tobacco. He glanced at Dwayne Reed, looking away when he saw Reed staring at him.

“Don’t pay to mess wit’ some people.”

“Is the defendant one of those people it doesn’t pay to mess with?”

Alex stood. “Objection. Calls for speculation and assumes facts not in evidence.”

“Overruled. The witness will answer the question.”

Henderson heaved an anxious sigh. “Yeah.”

“Why is that?”

Another long pause. “Don’t pay, that’s all. Man got enough troubles without addin’ to it. And I got a wife and kids to think about.”

“Are you afraid your testimony in this case will endanger you and your family?”

Henderson nodded.

“You have to answer out loud,” Judge West instructed.

“Yeah,” Henderson said.

“Knowing all that,” Bradshaw began, “are you prepared to tell the truth to this jury?”

Henderson lifted his head, slid back in his chair, and looked straight at Bradshaw and then at the jury.

“Yes, sir. I’m doin’ that right now. I been subpoenaed. I don’t got no choice.”

Reed leaned toward Alex, whispering. “That fat fuck is the money.”

“He’s not just the money. He’s the jackpot,” Alex said.

“Did you know the murder victim, Wilfred Donaire?” Bradshaw asked.

“I used to cut his hair.”

“How about the defendant, Dwayne Reed? Was he one of your customers?”

“Not for a long time.”

“Well, the defendant has been in jail for six months waiting to be tried for murdering Mr. Donaire. How about before he was arrested?”

“Nah, not before.”

“How would you describe your shop?”

Henderson squinted at Bradshaw. “What do you mean?”

“Well, do men come there just to get their hair cut?”

Henderson smiled. “Nah, some of my regulars, they come there and hang, you know what I’m sayin’? Sit around talkin’ and like that.”

“Was Wilfred Donaire one of your regulars?”

“Yeah, he was.”

“How about the defendant?”

“Nah, he don’t run wit’ dem.”

“How did you learn that Mr. Donaire had been murdered?”

“Saw it on the news.”

“Was it something your regulars talked about while they were sitting around your shop?”

Bradshaw had done a good job settling Henderson down. They were in a rhythm, trading questions and answers. It was the perfect time for Alex to make an objection just to try to throw them off.

“Objection. Hearsay,” she said from her chair, knowing it wasn’t and knowing that wasn’t the point.

“Overruled.”

Bradshaw didn’t miss a beat. “You may answer.”

“Everybody was talkin’ ’bout it.”

“Sometime after that, did the defendant come into your shop?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Were any of your regulars there when he came in?”

“No. Was jus’ me.”

“Did the defendant say why he was there?”

“Said he wanted a haircut, so I give him one.”

“Did you notice anything about the defendant while you were giving him a haircut?”

“He was wearing a gold chain round his neck.”

“Can you describe it in more detail?”

“It had the word magic spelled out in the middle of it.”

“How is it that you remember the chain?”

Henderson took a deep breath. “On account of Wilfred had a chain like that. People called him Magic.”

Bradshaw picked up a clear plastic evidence bag and handed it to Henderson. “I’m handing you state’s exhibit twenty-one. Detective Rossi has testified that the defendant had this gold chain in his possession when he was arrested. Do you recognize it?”

“Yeah, that’s the chain I been tellin’ you about, the one Wilfred like to wear.”

“Did you ask the defendant where he got the chain?”

“No, sir. Wasn’t none of my business.”

“Did the defendant say anything to you about the chain?”

“He ax me did I like it.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Just that he got it off a dead nigger shoulda known better than to mess wit’ him.”

Bradshaw let the answer hang for a moment, giving it time to soak in with the jury.

“Thank you, Mr. Henderson. No further questions.”

The last thing Alex wanted to do when her client had just taken a brutal shot was act like he’d taken a brutal shot. She was out of her chair before Bradshaw got back to his.

“Mr. Henderson, you said you heard about Mr. Donaire’s death on the news.”

“That’s right.”

“And how long after that did Dwayne Reed come into your shop?”

“He come in the next day.”

“And how long after that was it before you told the police what you claim Dwayne said?”

“A week.”

Alex held up his statement. “According to the statement you gave the police, it was ten days later. Is your sworn statement wrong?”

“No, it ain’t wrong.”

“Then your testimony today is wrong.”

Henderson folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know.”

Alex turned to the jury, her eyebrows raised. “You don’t know?”

“Well, I guess I’m off a little bit.”

“We can agree on that much, Mr. Henderson. Now, the police didn’t come to you to find out if you knew anything about this crime, did they?”

“No.”

“In fact, you just walked into the East Patrol station and said you had information about Mr. Donaire’s murder. True?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s right.”

“You weren’t subpoenaed?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You knew that Wilfred Donaire was a drug dealer, didn’t you?”

“I knew he could fix you up, if that’s what you mean.”

“I mean you knew he was a drug dealer. You knew that. True?”

Henderson pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“You guess so? Did it bother you that one of your regulars was a drug dealer?”

“Wilfred never bothered me none. If I only cut hair for the people in my neighborhood what never did nuthin’ wrong, I wouldn’t have nobody’s hair to cut.”

That brought another chuckle, two black men on the jury nodding and mouthing an amen . Alex pressed ahead, pointing to the black man at the back of the courtroom.